


Heel

by Ailette



Category: Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Imported, M/M, Steve is trying to help, also Peter's life is hard, but Tony doesn't want to work out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2214906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying his best to sabotage his combat training, Tony ends up on his back in a way he didn't expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heel

“I really don’t see why I have to take off my shoes for this,” Tony whined, even as he did follow the order and threw his shoes towards the nearest wall. The glare Cap sent after the stains his action – or his shoes, really – had left there, was only an added bonus.  


“You asked me to give you a few more hand-to-hand combat lessons. You agree to real training so rarely that we really should do it properly. And this time, we will not stop after five minutes because you changed your mind. That means shoes off and proper training attire,” Steve said sternly, pointing at his own clothes. For once out of costume and instead clad in a tight white t-shirt and loose black jogging pants, as barefoot as Tony.   


“You know I get enough training without these petty gym fights.” Tony’s tone was flirtatious enough for Steve to let the insult to his teaching methods go by without retort. Well, he nearly did, anyway.  


“I still remember you begging me to teach you ‘some moves’ because your ‘bodyguard’ was currently unavailable.”  


Tony chuckled at that, but still followed Steve’s motion to join him on the gym mat and began circling his lover. “Oh, and you were such a serious teacher back then. You spent the first ten minutes trying to conceal that you were laughing your ass off. _And_ you called me desk jockey. Remind me why I fell in love with you again?”

“Because I can sweep you off your feet?” Steve offered innocently and Tony stopped in his step to laugh. He regretted it the second Steve tackled him to the ground with his full weight.

“Ouf!”

“You were saying?”  


Sighing theatrically, Tony batted his eyelashes. “You are my hero; you were right and so on and so on. Now get off me, you’re heavy.” 

Steve didn’t move an inch.  


“What? You want me to say ‘I yield’ or something?” When Steve just grinned that infuriating boy scout smile of his, Tony realized he would have to resort to more drastic matters. Giving his most innocent smile in return (which he still had to work on, judging by the grimace Steve made), he rolled his hips upwards, accompanying the motion with a louder than necessary groan.  


Steve was back on his feet so fast, he didn’t even have the time to blush first. “Tony! The door is open!”  


Expression smug, Tony also got up. “It’s not like they don’t know about us.” His expression cleared. “Oh, that’s not what this is about, is it? You’re embarrassed because I made _sex sounds_.” And before Steve could stop him, he was yelling Steve’s name at the top of his lungs in a way that was most certainly not meant for other people’s ears.   


“JESSICA! They’re doing it again!” Peter’s voice was shrill enough to rival Banshee’s sonic scream.  


“Don’t care.”   


The rest of the exchange was cut off when Steve hurried over to the door and closed it, the click indicating he even locked it. Tony decided not to tell him that this would just make the complaints worse later on, because, well, _he_ didn’t have a problem with people thinking he was having sex in the gym.   


As Steve turned around, his eyes were narrowed. “You’ll regret that.”  


Knowing full well he was pushing his luck, Tony stuck his tongue out. “Make me.”  


The second time he was tackled, he saw it coming, but was still not fast enough to avoid landing on his back with Steve straddling his thighs. Another quick movement and his wrists were pinned over his head by one big hand. He fought the urge to shrug. Sex was far better than combat training, he sure as hell wouldn’t protest at this point. And indeed, Steve’s free hand made its way under Tony’s dark red t-shirt, caressing in its soft touches. Then, one finger suddenly poked at his ribs.   


Tony jerked away from the finger with a gasp. He glared up at Steve, ready to give him the whole lecture about not doing that because _he was ticklish, dammit_ , again. Only he found Steve grinning down with the most sinister smile he could imagine on that face. Oh, no, he wouldn’t. Would he? He did. 

Steve dug his fingers into his lover’s ribs again, this time getting a loud snort of laughter in response.   


“Stop!” Tony breathed which was all the encouragement Steve needed. His fingers moved to Tony’s stomach, and Tony squealed in a very undignified way. Seconds later, Steve had both hands on him, wiggling them like crazy over sensitive flesh.   


“I… I said… stop!” Tony yelped between fits of giggling. Every touch made him twitch more, and he had to fight to hold in outright laughter. Steve used all his experience as a tickler, constantly moving from one soft spot to another, not stopping at Tony’s pleading. After only a few minutes Tony was howling with laughter, tossing his head back and desperately trying to get away from the assault.   


“Steve,” Tony gasped, breathless from the playful torture. “Steve… stop… stop…please!”  


Steve just kept coming mercilessly, now concentrating on Tony’s exposed bellybutton, making him laugh hysterically as he swatted at Steve’s hands ineffectively. Tony’s face was flushed, tears freely streaming down his face. He squirmed and wriggled as his body shook with laughter, but he could barely move, Steve made sure of that. His chest heaved heavily as he laughed and gasped for air at the same time, nearly at his limit.   


Laughing himself, Steve eventually leaned back, watching in amusement how Tony tried to regain his breath, still giggling after every other pant. His whole body was gleaming with sweat by now.   


“You… are… evil,” he finally ground out.   


“Never forget I know all your weaknesses,” Steve said in a sing-song voice, tickling Tony’s side one more time for good measure before he stood, walked over to the door and let himself out. If Tony’s throat was as half as dry as it sounded, he had to be really thirsty.   


Arriving in the kitchen, he shot Peter (who, for some reason, sat at the ceiling with his hairs literally on end) and Carol a quick smile. As soon as he exited the room, Peter started lamenting.   


“They did it _in the gym_ , Jessica! Please, do something!”  


“Still don’t care,” came the reply, deadpan.

Tony grinned when he entered and saw Steve’s face practically glowing crimson. “The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry,” he recited smugly. Steve threw the bottles carelessly to the ground. Tony hadn’t learnt his lesson. Yet.

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/23112.html#cutid2)  
> Beta: freakydarling  
> A/N: After I send freakydarling two deathfics last friday, there was a need for Cheer-Up-Fic. :D


End file.
